Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

Chapter 3

“I can’t take it anymore, hahaha. Ran Lin, you’re really talented. How did you come up with the idea of holding up a light sign, hahaha—”

On the way back, He Jiayi, who had watched the whole process, still couldn’t stop laughing while holding his stomach.

Even Chen Ling, who was usually quiet and reserved, couldn’t help but laugh along.

Everyone thought he did it spontaneously, just to ride on the popularity of Lu Yiyao. But this act was really funny, especially after being recognized by the entertainment journalists. The scene was quite amusing. So instead of mocking, everyone just wanted to laugh heartily.

Ran Lin was laughed at until he lost his temper.

He felt like this incident was like the ancient story of ‘ghost hitting the wall*’—picking up the light sign as if possessed, standing still as if under a spell, facing Lu Yiyao as if destined, and taking a warm photo together as if by fate.

*Phrase that describes a situation where a person becomes trapped in a maze, typically while walking in a familiar place. They feel as if they’re walking in circles or unable to find their way out of a seemingly endless repetition of the same path or scenery. Depending on context, it could mean metaphorically a situation where someone is stuck in a repetitive or confusing scenario in life, unable to find a way out despite their efforts. In this case, it’s the latter.

Perhaps that sign carried the spirit of an obsessed fan, so whoever picked it up would be possessed by the fan’s spirit.

Otherwise, there was no way to explain this absurd mix-up.

But until the end, he didn’t say anything to the journalists. From the moment Lu Yiyao hugged him for a photo until he quickly left after the photo, it was only half a minute. Even when they later realized he might also be a star, there was just a flash of surprise in their eyes. Then, without waiting for his reaction, he gently let go, saying, “I’m really tired from the journey and need to rest, sorry everyone,” perfectly concluding the image of a friendly and approachable star.

The journalists, though they let him pass, still followed Lu Yiyao all the way to the door.

Kang Hui called them to take pictures on another floor, saying Han Ze had already gone back, and the ready photographer thought the scenery there was better.

It wasn’t a discussion, just a notification.

All three of them understood and immediately rushed to the designated place.

The journalists might come back after Lu Yiyao got in the car to dig deeper into the gossip of this lesser-known male star greeting his idol with a light sign, or they might not come back and just continue to follow Lu Yiyao. But none of this mattered to Ran Lin anymore.

The subsequent shooting went smoothly, and soon, the three of them followed their manager back in the car.

Kang Hui finally pieced together what happened from He Jiayi’s snickers and brief comments, and his face darkened.

Ran Lin’s heart sank, knowing he was about to be scolded.

Having been in the industry for two years, although he was still a lesser-known star, he was well aware of the various tricks in the industry.

What is popularity¹? It’s about having buzz².

¹Red (红) In terms of the entertainment circle, this means popularity.
²Heat (热度) In terms of the entertainment circle, refers to buzz. This term is commonly used to measure the success or impact of marketing campaigns, celebrity influence, or the reach of news stories and events in the digital age.

How can one achieve popularity? Those with good conditions, strong connections, resources, and willingness to work hard, aside from accumulating goodwill and visibility through roles in various productions, also need to stir up some topics. Those with poor conditions, lacking background and resources, must resort to all means to grab headlines.

An opportunity like the one he just had was a godsend. What he should have done was to cling to Lu Yiyao’s coattail*, expressing his fanboy feelings even though he was a star himself.

*Clinging/Hugging someone’s thigh. Basically, riding on their coattails (currying favor with someone).

If successful, he could not only ride on the news but also use the opportunity to build a relationship with Lu Yiyao.

Lu Yiyao’s team would naturally not let him slap a young fan’s face in front of the cameras, so whether their relationship is good or not doesn’t matter, as long as the fans think they hit it off from today.

The worst-case scenario would be Lu Yiyao’s fans not buying it and heavily criticizing him.

So what?

Criticism* was also a form of buzz.

*Black. Slandering and creating or spreading black materials (negative information/scandals) to defame someone or some projects, usually done by anti-fans.

But he didn’t say a word in front of the camera, missing the chance to make headlines.

Even if tomorrow the news spreads about him holding a sign waiting for Lu Yiyao, without interaction, communication, or catchy phrases—just a few photos or a few seconds of awkward video—there was no angle to stir up news.

Unexpectedly, Kang Hui didn’t say much; he just gloomily stared at him for a long time, eventually took off his glasses, rubbed his temples tiredly, and then asked Chen Ling, “There’s no problem with the fan meeting the day after tomorrow, right?”

Chen Ling, not knowing how the topic shifted to him, was stunned for a moment before answering, “Oh, no problem. We’ve rehearsed it several times.”

Kang Hui nodded and then rested with his eyes closed, not saying another word.

He Jiayi curled his lips, obviously disgusted with Kang Hui’s attitude throughout the whole process.

It wasn’t out of solidarity with Ran Lin; he just didn’t get along with this agent.

If an artist doesn’t get along with their manager, don’t expect them to become popular.

But He Jiayi didn’t care, as he had already given up on his future and was just waiting for his contract to end to change careers, using his savings to start a second profession.

Ran Lin didn’t dislike his agent. After all, he had been with him since his debut.

But he understood He Jiayi’s feelings.

Because both of them were in the same situation: being abandoned.

Yes, it wasn’t just neglect anymore.

Kang Hui, managing three artists alone with limited experience and resources, could only focus on one.

And Chen Ling was the chosen one.

It was simple. Chen Ling could sing, write songs, and perform well, making him suitable for variety shows, fan meetings, and even writing songs for dramas and movies.

The entertainment industry didn’t lack people who looked good, like Ran Lin and He Jiayi.

But talent was appreciated everywhere.

So facing Ran Lin’s hopeless situation, Kang Hui couldn’t even bother to speak.

Ran Lin gave He Jiayi a faint smile, with a sense of relief and helplessness.

Even if he had clung to Lu Yiyao’s coattail just now, what then? Without work, reputation, resources, or prospects, any buzz would be fleeting.

Hot topics* on Weibo updated every hour.

*Think “trending topics”. 

Even the biggest trending events faded away in a couple of days.

The company’s driver drove like he was racing for his life. Ran Lin, sitting next to the door, rested his head against the window, watching the street scenes swiftly recede.

He was twenty-three this year.

He wondered how much more of his youth he could squander in this industry.

The other protagonist of the airport incident, Mr. Lu Yiyao, forgot about this incident as soon as he turned his head.

After returning to his luxurious apartment in the Chaoyang District and taking a refreshing hot shower, he didn’t even have time to reminisce about the wonderful moments at the film festival before diving into his soft bed for a sound sleep.

On the same night, under the same dawn sky.

One in the CBD center, the other almost out of the East Fifth Ring.

Unbeknownst to the two people dancing with the Duke of Zhou* in their dreams, in another space, on Weibo, where there were thousands of sleepless people, their ‘brotherly love video’ was slowly fermenting.

*This is a humorous idiomatic expression (dancing the cha-cha with the Duke of Zhou) to refer to someone who’s in deep sleep and possibly dreaming. The Duke of Zhou is a revered figure in Chinese history known for his wisdom and moral integrity. In Chinese culture, he’s often associated with dreams.

“Lu Ge, your coffee.”

The clever assistant had long figured out Lu Yiyao’s habits—a sandwich for breakfast without fail, accompanied by a latte if the previous day was normal, or black coffee if he was fatigued or had stayed up late for filming.

Few people would both like a latte with hardly any strong coffee flavor and pure black coffee without any embellishments.

But his boss was an exception.

However, if all your colleagues complained about how difficult stars were to serve, and you found your boss quite agreeable, even often calm when you thought he should be angry, then even a bit of unusual preference was endearing.

“Mm.” Lu Yiyao didn’t even lift his head, just grunted. It seemed like he wasn’t in a good mood.

The assistant froze, thinking, ‘You really can’t praise people.’ Just after he did, the coffee wasn’t taken, and the usual “thank you” was gone too. Although he didn’t expect it, after getting used to it, it was still awkward when it was taken away.

Despite his internal complaints, the assistant promptly placed the coffee on the table in front of the makeup mirror.

The makeup artist, who had finished Lu Yiyao’s makeup and was working on his hair, gave the assistant a look, and he understood, quietly stepping back.

The boss was angry.

And it was that kind of anger that couldn’t be resolved by cultivation; only suppressed, causing an internal turmoil.

His phone slammed onto the table, hitting the coffee cup. Fortunately, the coffee shop’s takeaway packaging was sturdy, only sliding half a centimeter to the side before steadying itself.

Lu Yiyao had been scrolling through Weibo all morning, and the makeup artist had been sneakily watching too.

Although it wasn’t nice, from her perspective as a bystander, this matter was really worth calling a few friends for afternoon tea to gossip about.

Here’s what happened.

At 8 a.m., the famous Lu, who reportedly had barely slept a few hours the night before, was brought directly to the makeup room in a nanny car by his manager, Hong Jie. He had a midday engagement in the city to promote a product he was endorsing.

Although Lu Yi Yao was sleepy-eyed, he professionally let the makeup artist do her work. However, yawning one after another, truly bored, and with the assistant who went to buy breakfast perhaps caught in the morning rush and not yet back, he could only scroll through Weibo and check his mentions, a better option than doing nothing, while making sure not to disturb the muscles in his face.

Little did he know, upon checking a message from a friend in the industry, he would see himself.

Seeing oneself on Weibo wasn’t unusual for Lu Yiyao.

But today was different. In today’s Weibo, beside his own face was another.

The topic was still brewing heat. When Lu Yiyao looked, comments were continuously increasing.

The title was [It’s so sad that ugly people can’t even chase stars these days] accompanied by his photo with Ran Lin and a ten-second video.

The video was hastily shot, noisy, but the picture was clear, and the reporters’ teasing at the end was very audible.

He and Ran Lin, standing shoulder to shoulder, objectively speaking, made a pretty scene.

That was when Lu Yiyao remembered last night’s episode.

Soon, the top two or three similar Weibo posts had over a thousand replies, as people who scrolled at night had gone to bed and those up for work continued scrolling.

Most hot comments were like, “Ahhh, this is too handsome” or “Wow wow, my God Lu’s charm is unbeatable.”

There were a few true fans criticizing Ran Lin for riding on popularity, but they were quickly responded to by rational fans with, “There’s nothing wrong with one more person liking him. Please don’t attract hate towards God Lu.”

Lu Yiyao was used to being used for popularity, and besides, Ran Lin hadn’t done anything troublesome on camera or said anything outrageous.

In fact, the guy didn’t say a word.

This made Lu Yiyao uncertain whether it was a publicity stunt or genuine fandom.

But in just half an hour.

The direction of public opinion subtly shifted.

First, a few netizens forwarded the video and asked, “Am I the only one who thinks Ran Lin’s laugh looks very awkward 😂?”

Then, more and more netizens replied, “You’re not alone 😏*.”

*Note: This is supposed to be a doge emoji like this.

And then something miraculous happened—airport surveillance footage leaked.

In the video, from his “body double” attracting the fans away to Ran Lin hesitantly picking up the light sign, then looking at the trash can, and finally, his own dashing arrival at the exit, mistaking someone as a fan and embracing them.

The surveillance video was silent, but just watching it, it could be interpreted as “Ran Lin deliberately picking up the light sign pretending to be a fan.”

But what ultimately led the narrative was “What to do when mistaken as a fan by a star? I really just wanted to protect the environment 😂.”

This topic was much more dramatic than the previous one, and it was the kind of reversal that the public loves to see.

Soon, the two videos were spliced together by some entertainment marketing account with thoughtful post-production, especially the thirty-second video where Ran Lin didn’t say a word, bizarrely given start-to-end subtitles, fittingly dramatic.

He hugged Ran Lin’s shoulder, and Ran Lin was stunned— [This star…. This might be a misunderstanding.]

He pulled Ran Lin to face the camera, and Ran Lin was still stunned— [What should I do? Should I run now?!]

Halfway through the video, Ran Lin subtly sighed— [Well, let’s not face slap anyone. It’s just a mistake.]

In the last third, Ran Lin showed an awkward smile— [I’m so tired…]

In the final scene, reporters shouted randomly, but Ran Lin continued to smile— [Lu Yiyao, you owe me an Oscar.]

The video ended with a dark screen with red text— [I’m not your fan, but I love you deeply. — Ran Lin]

As soon as the video was released, various marketing accounts immediately went crazy sharing it, and it instantly became a hot topic.

The watching crowd was dumbfounded, but because the subtitles added were so humorous, the comments were uniformly filled with “hahahahahaha.”

If Lu Yiyao couldn’t smell something fishy at this point, then his four years in the entertainment industry would have been in vain.

Regardless of whether Ran Lin picking up the light sign was accidental or deliberate, this current trend was definitely led by the other party’s team.

Although Lu Yiyao’s status in the entertainment industry was still that of a junior, he was at the peak of both topic and popularity, a critical phase where traffic and popularity were exploding. If handled well, the future would be a smooth road. To get involved with him at this time was indeed a clever calculation.

Fortunately, Ran Lin was completely unknown, so the gimmick of “star misunderstanding star” in this video was actually not much different from “star misunderstanding a passerby”. The only point of humor was “how awkward”, but once the awkwardness was over, it was over—just a joke that couldn’t stir up much trouble.

This could be seen from the comments; even the hottest marketing accounts only had around two thousand comments below.

As long as he didn’t respond, the heat of this matter would quickly fade.

In this self-comforting relief, Lu Yiyao waited for his assistant’s coffee.

It was really just the assistant’s bad luck.

If he had returned just two minutes earlier, Lu Yiyao wouldn’t have been so angry.

Unfortunately, neither early nor late, at the very moment he spoke, Lu Yiyao’s well-cultivated heart just happened to explode into pieces of shit.

—The names Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao, tied together, parachuted into the hot search*.

*This is the title of the novel. See Kinky Thoughts for more details.

Kinky Thoughts:

The title of the novel is (空降热搜) which transliterated means Airborne Hot Search. In terms of context, I went with Suddenly Trending (which is basically what’s happening here).

Just a note, I’m not familiar with Weibo or the emojis/gifs/ect. they use. I hear it’s similar to Twitter. For emoticons I can’t find, I’ll try to substitute with what I think match best, leaving a footnote behind (similar to the doge emoji).

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

Chapter 2

“Wait here first. We’ll shoot Han Ze first and then you,” Kang Hui briefly instructed before diving into the sea of youth with his team.

The big screen showed that the flight had arrived.

Since it was a flight rescheduled at the last minute, the company had limited time to prepare, and with the three of them needing makeup and styling, they managed to arrive just in time despite rushing. Originally, the plan was to shoot them first, but now they had to prioritize Han Ze’s schedule.

Kang Hui was the common agent for the three of them, but not for Han Ze. After noticing Han Ze’s potential for stardom, the company hired Wang Xi, a top agent who had just left Pentium Times Media Group, as Han Ze’s agent. Subsequently, she naturally became the head of the agent department at Dream Without Limits.

Pentium Times Media was one of the most influential media groups in the country, with excellent platforms and resources, and its agents were among the best in the industry. However, for unknown reasons, Wang Xi left without taking any artists with her, citing “philosophical differences”.

This was followed by Han Ze’s sudden rise to fame.

He Jiayi always liked to say behind the scenes that Han Ze was just lucky, while Chen Ling, the youthful rebel, didn’t care much about anyone.

But Ran Lin thought differently. With the same resources, some became famous while others didn’t. It might be a matter of timing or talent. Instead of envying others, it was better to focus on oneself.

Of course, that was his motivational talk last year. This year, he was a negative energy boy, unable to muster the same enthusiasm.

Wang Xi probably knew Lu Yiyao, as the latter’s studio, though nominally independent, was actually affiliated with Pentium Times Media, making him technically an artist of Pentium Times Media. Despite Wang Xi not being Lu Yiyao’s agent, they belonged to the same company and probably knew each other, even if they only met once a year at the annual meeting. Moreover, Wang Xi was likely familiar with Lu Yiyao’s agent.

It must be a mixed feeling for Xi Jie*, now with her new company’s artist competing against her former company’s colleague and artists (at the international arrival exit). Especially since Lu Yiyao was currently on a roll, overshadowing Han Ze.

*Sister (姐). Term used to show respect and affection towards someone who is female and is either older or holds a higher position or authority. Usually, it signifies closeness or a friendly relationship.

Ran Lin didn’t know Lu Yiyao personally, but he always saw him—on TV and Weibo.

Especially this year, which was a big breakthrough year for Lu Yiyao.

Although that person had a few memorable film and TV roles in the previous two years, it wasn’t until this year that he truly shined. With leading roles in the TV dramas <Ten Years of Rainy Night> and <Yun Zhang>, and the film <Beihai Tree> all released in the same year.

Both TV dramas aired in March and April, back to back, on the same two networks. For a time, jokes were made online that turning on the TV meant seeing Lu Yiyao.

Both dramas were based on popular IPs and targeted young audiences. While <Night> received mediocre reviews, <Yun> was highly acclaimed, resulting in a positive aftereffect for both shows. Their high ratings also demonstrated Lu Yiyao’s value, outperforming most IP dramas of the same period and even the previous year.

For fans, it was about idolizing the person.

For investors, it was about the return on investment.

Lu Yiyao excelled in both aspects, making it only natural for him to rise to fame.

As the saying goes, good things come in pairs, but for Lu Yiyao, favored by fortune, good things come in threes.

In June, just as his popularity was surging from the two TV shows, his film <Beihai Tree> was released. Although it was a niche art film with modest box office returns, it received critical acclaim and was nominated in a major category at an international A-list film festival in August.

Now, just after National Day, Lu Yiyao had returned home in glory, having walked the red carpet at the festival and gained international recognition.

Despite only winning Best Cinematography among the three nominations, a nomination for Best Actor at an internationally recognized festival was enough to make Lu Yiyao stand out among his peers, shedding his idol image, elevating to a serious actor, and making a grand transition to a film star.

In terms of earning potential, films may not be as profitable as TV dramas, but in terms of prestige, the big screen was always the ultimate goal for stars.

Many popular TV actors become box office poison when they move to films. By establishing a firm footing on the big screen, Lu Yiyao had already outpaced his contemporaries.

He was only twenty-four this year.

Just a year older than Ran Lin.

“Ahhhhh—”

“Han Ze! Han Ze!”

“Ahhhh—”

The fans’ screams, as if gathering strength all night, almost lifted the roof of Terminal 3.

Ran Lin, who had been enviously daydreaming about Lu Yiyao’s success, was startled by the screams.

The international arrival exit was packed, and all the young men and women who came for Han Ze, as well as some for Lu Yiyao but also casual fans of Han Ze, started screaming.

Ran Lin and the others stayed on the outskirts, unnoticed, even though they looked incredibly handsome.

Han Ze had already come out, not wearing a hat, sunglasses, or a mask, which meant he was in great condition and confident enough to face the candid shots of his true fans.

And indeed, he was.

In a clean, sharp trench coat, his stride seemed to create a breeze. His hair was casual yet stylish, and his handsome face, smiling all the way, showed no signs of travel fatigue, radiating vitality and warmth.

Han Ze’s popularity was no fluke.

Elegant in costume drama and dashing in modern attire, his presence alone captivated the audience. This was a gift from the heavens.

As Han Ze moved out, part of the crowd followed him, creating a chaotic mix of screams, footsteps, and shoving.

Kang Hui was quickly swallowed up by the crowd, but Xi Jie, who had been following Han Ze, and the photographer who came with them remained conspicuous. However, most fans and entertainment journalists were still waiting for Lu Yiyao.

Han Ze’s figure became increasingly distant in the throng of fans, soon about to leave the terminal building.

He Jiayi voiced his concern. “Are we just going to wait here foolishly? Looking at this, that kid will probably just hop into the company car and leave as soon as he’s out of the terminal. Will the photographer even come back to take our photos? And after that, do we just take a taxi home in the middle of the night?”

Chen Ling, irritated by the airport’s no-smoking policy, didn’t bother to respond, yawning continuously.

Ran Lin actually didn’t want to bother with him either, as this colleague of his always had a straightforward way of thinking. Seeing He Jiayi getting restless, Ran Lin had to put an arm around his neck in a brotherly gesture and explained, “Don’t worry, there are so many people with Han Ze. Even if we clear the space, that small broken car won’t fit all of us. The company must have already arranged a car to wait for us.”

He Jiayi froze, then after a moment, he nodded in realization. “Makes sense!” He continued looking at Ran Lin, adding, “You’ve got a sharp mind, kid.”

Ran Lin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, feeling that the compliment wasn’t quite fulfilling.

“Ahhhhhhhh—”

“Lu Yiyao Ahhhhhh—”

“Ahhhh I love you—”

It was unknown who shouted first, but after that, the noise level never went down.

If Han Ze’s fans almost overturned the terminal, Lu Yiyao’s fans completely did. Thankfully, the hall didn’t allow parking, or else the alarms would be blaring now.

Compared to Han Ze, Lu Yiyao was fully equipped with a hat, mask, and sunglasses, keeping his head down and swiftly walking out, surrounded by staff. He didn’t even offer a smile to his fans who came to pick him up. His speed was almost supernatural, as if he was escaping.

Ran Lin felt somewhat disappointed.

He had wanted to see the real person.

Lu Yiyao in TV dramas was exactly his type—with sharp eyebrows and charming eyes, appearing cold when not smiling, but usually wearing a faint smile. In historical dramas, he was an elegant young master, his fringe tied into his hair bun, exuding restrained passion; in modern dramas, he was a playful boyfriend, his fringe down, fresh and sunny.

What a pity.

Ran Lin sighed silently in his heart. He Jiayi, who had just freed himself from Ran Lin’s arm, was watching the crowd following their “male god” with a complex expression.

Being in the same entertainment industry, the impact of such unequal treatment was huge. Unless one had a will of steel, it was hard to stay unaffected.

The hall returned to silence. The international arrival exit was now completely empty, with a piece of a light sign lying on the ground. It had only the word “Yao” still flashing, probably dropped in the earlier commotion.

Ran Lin decided to pick up the light sign—after all, it was a busy exit, and such an object lying on the ground seemed unsafe. But upon picking it up, he started regretting it.

He hadn’t thought much about it initially, just considering it a simple act of environmental care. However, holding the light sign, he realized it wasn’t disposable like cheering lightsticks. This well-made sign could last a year or two if well-preserved.

In his first year in the entertainment industry, Ran Lin had occasionally seen fans holding light signs to pick him up at the airport. The number was, of course, incomparable to Lu Yiyao, but whether it was ten fans or a hundred thousand, each fan’s feelings were the same. Probably no one liked to see the light sign they made to support their idol thrown in the trash.

Wait a minute.

Perhaps inspired by the flickering light sign, Ran Lin suddenly sensed something amiss. He looked up at the big screen above the exit. Sure enough, although the flights from Han Ze’s fashion week and Lu Yiyao’s film festival city both showed as having arrived, there was a fifteen-minute gap between their arrival times. Even if Lu Yiyao was fast, luggage delivery always followed the flight order. How could he have come out right after Han Ze?

A commotion from behind caught Ran Lin’s attention. The gossip journalists who had followed the fans in pursuit of “Lu Yiyao” were now hurrying back!

Ran Lin widened his eyes in disbelief and looked back at the international arrival exit. Although he had a vague idea of what was happening, he found Lu Yiyao’s trickery astounding.

Roll, roll, roll—

The sound of rolling luggage approached.

The first to come out was a group from the Sunset Red International Travel Group. Despite it being late at night, the elderly tourists were still enthusiastically discussing their trip. Then came a few foreigners, followed by young students…

About six or seven minutes later, the flow of people slowed down, and finally, the exit was quiet and empty again.

It seemed like all the passengers from the flight had left.

But Ran Lin, glancing at the media still waiting around, firmly believed his guess was correct.

Roll, roll, roll—

Here they come.

Ran Lin looked up, fixating on the exit, not sure why he was so determined nor whether he wanted to verify his guess or see the real Lu Yiyao, who could come up with such a cunning plan.

Lu Yiyao wore black casual pants, a dark gray pullover knit sweater with a white shirt underneath, the collar peeking out, and the hem casually loose. Unlike Han Ze’s meticulous preparation, Lu Yiyao seemed more casual, his hair slightly messy from the journey, adding a lazy charm to his relaxed style.

However, his bare face and the fleeting look of astonishment on the faces of the entertainment reporters as he walked out betrayed him.

This person must have anticipated that his “stand-in” would draw everyone away.

Ran Lin was sure of it.

His lips uncontrollably curved upwards, as Ran Lin could almost imagine in his mind Lu Yiyao’s internal monologue at this moment, surely filled with words that would be bleeped out on television.

But this man was quick to adapt, or perhaps he had good self-control, quickly hiding his annoyance and wearing a gentle smile in his eyes.

The sound of clicking cameras was incessant.

Lu Yiyao allowed them to take photos generously.

Ran Lin thought that he must have figured that since it had come to this, it was better to be graceful than to appear disheveled.

Some eager reporters began asking questions, their phones set to record almost pushed into his mouth, mostly about the film festival, and a few bold ones directly asked about scandals.

His agent, Yao Hong, was with him from beginning to end but didn’t overshadow him. She seemed very confident in Lu Yiyao, not hastily intervening even when scandalous questions were asked. Unlike the always impeccably made-up Wang Xi, who was sharp and efficient, this woman in her forties appeared gentler and simpler, not like a strong woman, but more like an elder sister.

Her confidence wasn’t without reason—Lu Yiyao deftly handled the scandal-related questions, even managing to make the reporters laugh.

Ran Lin, standing close by, heard everything clearly and instantly realized that this was a response Lu Yiyao had prepared well in advance, just waiting for someone to walk into his trap so he could display his wit.

After answering about five or six questions, Yao Hong finally spoke up, expressing gently to the reporters the artist’s need to return and rest soon.

The reporters, rarely encountering an artist’s team willing to negotiate, empathized and slowly cleared a path. Of course, they continued to take photos, trying to capture as much material as possible.

Ran Lin also stepped aside with the reporters.

Lu Yiyao, in person, was even more charismatic than on TV. Ran Lin, from a purely appreciative perspective, felt his trip that evening wasn’t in vain.

Huh?

Lu Yiyao looked over without warning and Ran Lin didn’t have time to look away.

Their eyes met.

Initially preparing to leave quickly with his manager and assistant, Lu Yiyao suddenly walked towards Ran Lin.

Ran Lin was instantly nervous. Before he could react, Lu Yiyao had already put an arm around his shoulder, smiling brightly. “Thank you for coming to pick me up.”

It’s not you, but rather you guys. At this moment, Ran Lin represented all the fans and fangirls who were roaring like a tidal wave.

Ran Lin looked at Lu Yiyao, then at the light sign in his hand, suddenly feeling despondent.

On one hand, Lu Yiyao posed with him for the press.

On the other hand, the entertainment reporters understood immediately and snapped away.

Ran Lin swallowed and could only manage an awkward but polite smile.

The character “Yao” on the light sign flashed in front of the camera, speaking for the holder’s endless love for his idol.

Lu Yiyao might have had a moment of conscience, feeling that his earlier trick wasn’t very honorable, so he repaid his surviving fan holding the light sign with full apologies, or it could have been an act, playing the role of a star who loves his fans. But regardless of which, Ran Lin felt he was at a loss…

“Are you… Ran Lin?”

Finally, one of the more knowledgeable reporters recognized this eighteenth-tier male star.

“It really is Ran Lin!”

“So, you’re also a fan of Lu Yiyao, haha!”

“Did you enter the entertainment industry just to chase stars?”

“That’s so inspiring!”

“Ran Lin, say something…”

The focus of the media shifted from Lu Yiyao to Ran Lin, and the reporters relaxed a lot more.

But Ran Lin didn’t want to speak.

He just wanted to smash the light sign at everyone.

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

Chapter 1

“Yesterday, the police from the Chaoyang Public Security Bureau received a tip from the public and arrested a drug suspect named Yuan in a certain community. Tests confirmed that Yuan tested positive for marijuana. Yuan, a male actor, admitted to drug use and is currently under administrative detention according to law.”

A simple situation report, in the form of a screenshot with blue background and white text, stirred a ripple in the entertainment circle on this early evening.

Of course, the entertainment circle was abstract, and there was no way to form a physical entity to stop people from watching and criticizing with great interest.

So all these waves were rolled into Weibo.

The report from Ping’an Beijing didn’t name names, but within a few minutes, the person involved was identified—Yuan He, who had just gained some popularity as the third male lead in a major IP-adapted TV drama.

However, he was still a newcomer. After the entertainment gossip accounts shared the news, his newly gained fans cried, eventually leaving messages like “changing from a fan to passersby” or “we will always wait for you here” and then there was no more noise.

Ran Lin lay on a small and exquisite European-style double sofa. His long legs awkwardly rested on the armrest due to the cramped space. But Ran Lin didn’t mind, even finding it quite comfortable, as he continuously scrolled through his phone, his calf and foot unconsciously swaying to some rhythm from another space.

Beneath the situation report, some passersby asked the perennial question—why is it always the Chaoyang Masses who achieve meritorious deeds? Can’t celebrities think and change their location? For example, to my great Miyun with its majestic mountains, dense forests, and reservoirs!

Underneath this old question, there was an old joke—the world has five major intelligence organizations: the CIA of the United States, the KGB of the former Soviet Union, Mossad of Israel, MI6 of the United Kingdom, and the Beijing Chaoyang Masses (BJCYQZ*).

*Clarity: The Beijing Chaoyang Masses is [Běijīng zhāoyáng qúnzhòng] (北京朝阳群众). The acronym is taken from BeiJing ChaoYang GunZhong. Note that while it is a z in pinyin, it’s actually a C (in pronunciation wise), which is why it’s a C not Z.

In fact, why celebrities were always caught in the Chaoyang District was something Ran Lin knew best, as he had lived here for two years.

Two years ago, when he was about to graduate from college, he suddenly became popular on Weibo because of a few photos. However, it was more like a round of popularity than true fame. Initially, he was called the most handsome student on campus, a bright young man, but then some marketing account created a hot topic—”If there is a first love, it must look like you.”

The origin of the photos was unknown, seemingly taken by a schoolmate.

In the evening on the sports field, with the sunset in the west, a young man in a white shirt sat on the parallel bars, looking into the distance. The young man had a clear and handsome face and a tall and well-proportioned body, especially complementing his bright eyes. Despite the dim light, his eyes made him look bright, like the first breeze of a clear morning.

For Ran Lin at that time, it was just an ordinary college senior returning dispirited from an unsuccessful job search. Otherwise, who would sit on the parallel bars in a white shirt, contemplating life?

For Ran Lin now, that was a turning point in life.

When an agency contacted him, asking if he was interested in entering the entertainment industry, he thought it was a scam. Only after the company reimbursed his travel and accommodation to discuss in Beijing did he go, with extreme caution and even an emergency contact method and code with his dormitory brothers.

Fortunately, the sky in the capital was clear… well, in terms of spiritual civilization. The company, called “Dream Without Limits” Entertainment and Culture Co., Ltd., was indeed in the entertainment industry, signing some familiar-faced minor celebrities, but probably hadn’t achieved much success due to its recent establishment.

Ran Lin was cautious and meticulous, usually not making impulsive decisions. Once he made up his mind, he didn’t hesitate.

He studied language in college, had limited job prospects, and attended an average university, so he hadn’t found a job by his senior year. He had to admit, the “Dream Without Limits” employee made the entertainment industry sound very attractive, tempting him, who had never thought about connecting with the entertainment industry, with visions of a dazzling future.

So, he made the first slightly risky decision of his life.

If he succeeded, he would be in the limelight, without any worries; if he failed, he could just pick up his college major and start over in society.

He liked to think of the worst-case scenario. If he could accept the worst outcome, then he could proceed with the decision.

Thus, he signed a six-year contract at the age of twenty-one.

Now, two years later, becoming the center of everyone’s attention was out of the question, but at least he was making a decent living. He would sporadically take on roles as the sixth, seventh, eighth, or ninth male lead in drama series and managed his Weibo account diligently. As long as he wasn’t extravagant, he was doing okay. And living in a neat single apartment provided by the company in the most bustling part of the capital, he couldn’t really ask for more from them.

This brings us back to the initial question.

Why do all the celebrities live in the Chaoyang District?

Because it is the largest district in Beijing, with the highest resident population and the highest concentration of film and culture companies.

Everyone likes to live close to their workplace, and this applies to both the struggling actors and the successful stars.

But the entertainment industry is much larger than Chaoyang District, and the number of people in it is also much larger. Those who become celebrities are just the tip of the iceberg that’s visible above the water. Most people are forever submerged in the briny depths, either dissolving into the sea or evaporating completely.

Ran Lin felt like he was about to evaporate.

There were still three years and nine months left in his contract, but it had been almost half a year since he had received any notification of work.

The company’s strategy was to cultivate a group collectively, select the best, and focus on training them. It was a race to see which of the new talents they had signed would break through first.

In the end, it was Han Ze who emerged. He became famous last summer for his role in a rather cliché idol drama. After that, the company’s resources were clearly skewed towards him, and the rest of them, including Ran Lin, were more or less left to fend for themselves.

In this circle, some people, like Yuan He, lose themselves in the glitz and glamour. Others, like Ran Lin, struggle for years without ever really entering the true spotlight of the industry.

As he was daydreaming, his phone slipped from his hand and hit his tooth, instantly waking him up.

The tall tip of his nose touched the screen and very considerately refreshed his phone, updating the hot topics for him.

Sitting up and holding his phone, his intention was to check his injured tooth for any looseness, but the moment he saw the latest hot topic, he forgot everything else.

[Veteran actor shows what ‘reincarnation acting’ is all about!]

The Weibo title was short and impactful, and the content was just a clip from a recently popular TV drama.

Ran Lin had been feeling quite down recently, not really focusing on honing his acting skills, and had been spending most of his time brushing up on Spanish, preparing to fall back on his original major if needed.

But the moment he watched that clip of the veteran actor’s powerful lines, his blood boiled with excitement.

He had never truly loved anything in his life. Even choosing his college major was based on the notion that lesser-known languages would lead to better job prospects.

But after two years in the industry, he found himself falling in love with acting.

No matter if it was a minor role with only a few scenes and lines, he would pore over the script, rehearsing in front of the mirror like a madman. For characters not given much background by the scriptwriter, he would even create their personal histories, losing himself in the joy of it.

Acting wasn’t a superior profession. It was just one of many, like finance, IT, architecture, advertising, cooking, and so on.

But he loved it.

So much so that the mere thought of not being able to continue made him, who was usually so laid-back, utterly despondent.

“Young man under the sun~~ Has your dream been realized~~ In the cold world~~ Has it changed you~~”

The ringtone of the phone suddenly rang, and the flashing caller ID displaced the original Weibo video.

“Kang Ge*.” Ran Lin didn’t dare to delay and picked up the phone as quickly as possible.

*Brother (哥). Term used to show respect and affection towards someone who is male that is either older or holds a higher position or authority. Usually, it signifies closeness or friendly relationship.

He wasn’t sure how other agents interacted with their artists, but whenever Kang Hui contacted him, it was definitely about work. Maybe because they didn’t have a contractual relationship and both worked for the company, since the company assigned Kang Hui to be his agent, they had always been polite and strictly professional, without any personal interaction.

“Come to the company now.”

As always, brief and to the point.

Usually, Ran Lin wouldn’t make a fuss. Even if the instructions were vague, he would comply first and ask questions later. But it was already eleven o’clock at night…

“Now?”

“Is there a problem?”

“No, I mean, do I need to prepare anything?”

“No need. Just go straight to the makeup room when you arrive at the company.”

“Okay.”

Ran Lin quickly took a taxi to the company and found that not only him but also He Jiayi and Chen Ling had been called in.

These two were in a similar position to him in the company, being neglected after Han Ze’s rise to fame, maintaining their popularity on Weibo with some variety show appearances and selfies.

In contrast to the hurried arrival of these three artists alone, the summoned styling and photography team was well-prepared. Once settled in front of the makeup mirror, the stylist started first, finishing the makeup and hairstyle, then choosing clothes.

The photographer had nothing to do for the moment and sat there, dozing off with his camera.

Clothes make the man, especially for those with naturally outstanding foundations like them. After careful styling, they looked like trendy and handsome guys. Moreover, each of them was styled according to the company’s usual direction. Ran Lin wore a trendy brand baseball jacket with a somewhat flowery pattern but looked particularly young, embodying the bold youth despite being twenty-three, almost unchanged from the boy on the parallel bars in his old photos; He Jiayi was tall and handsome, dressed in simple casual wear, representing the fresh boyfriend style; Chen Ling was in punk attire, embodying the rock youth.

Even the slowest would realize that this was for a street shoot.

However, Ran Lin didn’t guess entirely correctly—it was a street shoot, but not of night scenes, but at the airport.

Airport candid shots have become a trend in the entertainment industry in recent years. Regardless of whether the artists were actually taking a flight or how tiring it was to walk in high heels, they had to dress up beautifully for a few airport shots every now and then.

Of course, the artists wouldn’t admit to staging these shots. They were supposedly taken en route to catching a flight, “casually” shot, and some even claimed they were candid shots taken by paparazzi.

It was unclear who first discovered this “divine path”, but several in the industry had become fashion icons through “airport street photography”, and a few with strong influence and a solid fan base had terrifying selling power. Almost as soon as the airport photos were released in the morning, the same items would sell out online by the afternoon.

As a male artist, Ran Lin wasn’t particularly keen on taking photos, especially when he saw some female stars posing at the airport with full lighting and photography setup, only to claim the photos were “candid”. He found it embarrassing.

But there was no choice; if one wanted to survive in this circle, they had to use every trick in the book.

After being embarrassed for others, it was his turn to shine.

But actually, from the hasty phone call, it was clear that this “street shoot” wasn’t prepared for them. Upon asking Kang Hui, it turned out that Han Ze’s schedule had changed, and he had returned early from Fashion Week.

Han Ze was now the company’s key focus, and it was necessary to have a team take first-hand, beautiful photos of him at the airport. Otherwise, if all the internet had were fan screams or awkwardly angled ugly photos, the publicity director might as well not continue working.

The company probably thought that shooting one was the same as shooting four, so they decided to share the team and give them a chance for publicity. Otherwise, they would always be stuck posting selfies on Weibo, which even the most devoted fans would tire of.

At two-thirty in the morning, the airport was much quieter than during the day, with a few travelers dozing or browsing on their phones and tablets. Everything was silent.

But this tranquility lasted only until the international flight exit.

A sea of people was accompanied by flashing lights. If not for airport control, these young men and women would probably have drums, gongs, and firecrackers.

Surprisingly, not all of the light signs were for Han Ze; in fact, only a few were. Most were for another name—Lu Yiyao.

Kinky Thoughts:

It’s been a while since I did an entertainment novel. My first project was Your Rival in Love Gets Prettier Every Day. This novel was highly recommended by a friend, so I decided to pick it up, and I have no regrets as it’s probably one of the best showbiz danmei I’ve read. It is also by an author that I’m quite interested in their other works, so I also picked up Midnight Owl.

Hope you enjoy it.

Here’s some artwork from the physical volumes which can be ordered here:

It also has a Manhua, which you can read in English or Chinese. Some artwork below. The English Manhua is translated as Rise to Stardom (though I prefer suddenly trending, which will be explained in a later chapter why).

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